tubgirl.jpg
Bluelight Crew
tenets of predation:
1
meat, blood, marrow
1
meat, blood, marrow
“We're not born as blank she tell s me, while a lobster sprawls on her plate. She pins it down with a lobster limb from limb, still alive. “we're each and every one stained by malevolence. When God made humanity, he shoved his hand threw her chest and equipped her with an alarming capacity of relentless savagery.” The claws are clipping in the air. She tears off a leg.
“We're not born as choirboys because God wants callous soldiers with extended clips,” says the woman who's known as Malice.
Not as known from TV or some other She tears off the right and the left claw. The crabs eyes has since long stopped flickering.
“God wants to look down upon us from far up high, and what God wants to see, is maimed and mutilated body parts scattered all over the continents.”
Dismembered on her plate, the liquid flesh spilling across the ivory porcelain, the tiny gills and the scaphognathite drying up, the lobster suffocating from to much air, she picks it up again.
“Gods wants children running on land mines, tiny bodies that become pink, wet clouds raining tiny hands and feet, chunks of raw flesh and shattered bones. What god wants,” she tells me, “is burning napalm on ivory beaches, shanks, shivs and botched shotgun-suicides.”
She sips her champagne and through the tissue I think I can see a tiny heart, barely beating. She bites the head clear off.
“What? Lobsters feel no pain,” Malice tells me with her mouth full of raw lobster, spitting out what looks like the eyes.
I need a drink.”
I'm smoking in her couch end Malice passes out in a minute.
I lay behind her in the dark, traces my finger long minute detail of her backa, with scars, muscle. She's barely a decimeter and tendons, but it has grown from a crack to a crevasse. Her foingers press on my chest.
I tell Malice, are you awake?
I need a tampong, I say, or a I might nleed to death. I grab her in the moonlight, and I want to like her. I Her breaths are shallow. Outside her window, people looks like insec want to love her.
I'm a coward. I take Up here, I'm god her Xanax. I meet the priest ho throws gang-signs- he cries when me mocks his god, but Malice is laughing.
And here, while dreaming, that raft never becomews a lethal canyon.
